Boiling Point
by Dilly-Oh
Summary: Because everyone has one. Even bushy-haired geniuses from Gryffindor. Rated T for potty-mouthing.


Author's Note: Because I'm stupid like this. And I have a lot of rage.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters.

Boiling Point

The Slytherins were at it again.

Hermione sat in one of the many seats of the packed Quidditch stadium and forced herself to count to ten, but even that couldn't block out the loud curses and insults coming from the Slytherins. And they weren't even the ones playing! Hermione looked up at the Gryffindor team hovering above the crowd and hoped they were trying to ignore them, too.

Cries of "Losers! Cheats!" and "Fall! FALL!" came from the Slytherin stands as nearly the entire house assaulted the Gryffindor players with verbal abuse. Snape made no move to stop name-calling, and Hermione suspected, from his smug smile, that he had come up with a few himself.

"Harry! Hey Harry!" She heard Malfoy boldly declare. "You might be able to steer your broom better if it were jammed up your ass!"

"Hey, Ronald!" Pansy Parkinson called, her bellowing voice louder than the rest. "Are those freckles, or did your mum throw dog crap at you through a screen?!" This drew a roar of laughter from the other Slytherins, fueling Pansy for her next strike.

"Oy, Hermione!"

Hermione flinched, but forced herself not to look. She wouldn't give Pansy the satisfaction of knowing she had her attention.

Just ignore her, Hermione told herself. Ignore her and she'll shut up soon.

"Everyone want to know where Hermione gets her curly hair from?!" Pansy called out. The Slytherins around her stared, waiting expectantly.

Ignore her. Don't listen. Just ignore her.

"She gets it from the drain…" Pansy was saying.

Ignore her. Don't listen. Ignore her. Don't listen.

"_After Fenrir Greyback shaves his balls_!"

That did it.

Hermione snapped.

She stood up, marched down the aisle to where Dean Thomas was desperately trying to add commentary over the deluge of insults coming from the Slytherins, and yanked the microphone out of his hand. Turning the volume up to full, she took a deep breath, and let loose.

"_HEY_!! WILL YOU ALL SHUT THE _FUCK_ UP?!!" Hermione screamed into the mike, her voice reverberating through the stadium. Everyone froze. Even the Quidditch players. Hermione glared about her, daring anyone to interrupt, which they smartly did not. Finally she turned her head and glared at one certain individual cowering in the opposite stands.

"Pansy Parkinson!!" Hermione barked. Pansy winced. "Pansy Parkinson, you dumb, ugly bitch, is that your face, or did a bulldog take a SHIT on it?!" Pansy's jaw fell open, and she stared back at Hermione, dumbstruck. "Oh, wait, I'm sorry," Hermione continued, false remorse filling her voice, "I didn't mean to bring your MOTHER into this."

Hermione's glare left Pansy amongst a chorus of 'Ohhs' and found a new target.

"And Malfoy!" The pale boy went a shade paler. "Is she the best you could do? _Seriously_? Good Lord, boy, if she's the pinnacle of your romantic prospects, then you're better off going GAY…" Hermione paused for effect. "Like your FATHER."

This time the crowd 'Oohed', eyes wide with shock.

Crabbe and Goyle were standing behind Malfoy, looking confused. Hermione couldn't resist.

"Crabbe and Goyle!" She shouted. "I'm not even going to _attempt_ to insult you two, because let's face it; it takes all your intelligence just to remember to BREATHE." Hermione thought for a moment. "And FART."

Everyone giggled and tittered a bit at this one.

"And the rest of you Slytherin sons-of-bitches!!" Hermione turned her sights on the rest of the crowd. "I'm sorry I have to break it to you, but there's no such thing as House Cup for 'Biggest Asshole', so _STOP TRYING TO WIN IT_!!"

Having had her say, Hermione slammed the microphone back down on the podium, whirled on her heel, and marched back to her seat, where she sat down with a thump and glared forward, arms crossed.

Silence filled the stadium.

Then the stands exploded with applause, applause so loud it drowned out Professor McGonagall's gales of laughter and Snape's furious demands that the Gryffindor's be penalized.

Either way, by the next morning, fifty points had mysteriously been added to the Griffindor's hourglass.

The End

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Author's Note: Holy crap that was fun to write. I feel better now. Also, can't remember if Dean was actually the one who'd do commentary for games. Whatever. *Shrugs*


End file.
